


Honey, You Need

by WrongRemedy



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Bilingual Character(s), Established Relationship, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Pet Names, Phone Sex, Top!Sami, bottom!kevin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-27 15:39:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19015861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrongRemedy/pseuds/WrongRemedy
Summary: Sami is on cloud nine after his NXT tv debut, and calls Kevin on the phone to talk about it, as well as a few other things.Set in May 2013, when Sami made his NXT television debut but Kevin hadn't signed with WWE yet.





	Honey, You Need

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic so long ago now I don't even remember when I started it. Sometime last year, in a note on my phone. I had to get it onto the computer and finished or it was going to kill me just having it hanging around, so here it is.
> 
> Title from 'Whole Lotta Love' by Led Zeppelin, because why not?
> 
> See the end notes for translations of the smatterings of French and Arabic that I swore I wasn't going to put in but then did anyway.

Sami's onscreen NXT debut goes better than he ever could have hoped or dreamed, especially after the two false starts at house shows while they tried to decide on his character.

Two matches, two wins, and a kickass promo in the middle. By the time he leaves Full Sail at the end of taping, he's practically vibrating out of his skin, riding high on the excitement of it all. He's lucky he doesn't die on the short drive back to his new place, because the road and other vehicles seem far less important than replaying the show over and over again in his mind.

The second his apartment door closes behind him, he's got his phone pressed to his ear, Kevin's number quick-dialed off the top of his “recents” list.

“Hey, love,” Kevin greets as usual, and the giddy feeling in Sami's chest somehow manages to grow even more. “How was taping?”

Sami collapses onto the living room couch and stares up at the ceiling, shaking his head in awe.

“Kevin, it was _amazing_. I won two different matches, I cut a great promo on Claudio...Babe, I think I'm actually going to be able to do this.”

Kevin laughs. “Of course you're going to be able to do it, doofus. You've been doing it for over a decade. This is your life, you're not a rookie.”

“But I am, technically, here,” Sami protests. “I mean, I'm starting at the same point as everybody else. These people don't know me as Generico. Or, at least some of them don't. They don't care where I came from. As far as most of these fans know I could be any bum off the street. That's why I'm so...agh, I'm so happy that everything went so well today. It was a really good start, Kev. I wish you could have seen it.”

“I'll see it when it broadcasts,” Kevin says. “I'll download it illegally and watch it every single day. I'll print out pictures from it and frame them all over the house in Montreal so we get to look at them every time we come home, how's that?”

Sami laughs, kicking off his shoes and putting the phone on speaker so he can set it on the coffee table when he lays back on the couch.

“I'd call that overkill, wouldn't you?” he asks, amused.

“Hell no,” Kevin answers emphatically. “I'd call it appreciating the fact that my man is a badass who's about to show the WWE what he's made of.”

Sami grins at the ceiling, feeling his face flush both at Kevin's words and the continued high of the show. God, he's so happy.

“My man's a badass too, you know,” Sami says conversationally, hands settling at the hem of his t-shirt, pushing it up a little, idly running a thumb across the bare skin and trail of hair above the waistband of his track pants. He's not hard or anything, but between the show and Kevin's voice he's keyed up, wound tight, and he knows it wouldn't take much to get him there, if Kevin were inclined to let the conversation go that way.

 _If he even has time_ , Sami thinks, suddenly worried. He turns his head sharply towards the phone on the table.

“Wait, Kev, where are you? Do you have anywhere to be soon?”

“I'm at some crappy hotel in Pennsylvania. I was planning to look for a gym soon and some of the guys are going out later tonight but our show isn't until tomorrow.”

There's a slight pause where Sami can practically hear the smirk on Kevin's face before he even speaks.

“Plenty of time for you to use me to work off your energy.”

Sami's torn between two different reactions to Kevin's choice of phrasing. Part of him wants to roll his eyes and laugh; make a joke of it so that they can keep this whole thing light and teasing. But, well, Kevin is the one who said it first, and Sami is used to nothing if not taking his cues from Kevin and trusting that his intuition will lead him exactly where Kevin intended for them to go. Besides, they've been apart for weeks and Sami's only human, so.

“Use you, huh, Kev?” he asks, voice dipping low. “That's what you want?”

He hears Kevin exhale shakily on the other end of the line, and then the tell-tale shuffling and creaking sounds of a body settling onto one of those awful two-bit hotel beds they're all so used to. Sami sits up and takes his t-shirt off, tossing it carelessly to the floor before sprawling back out on the couch again.

“Yeah,” Kevin murmurs, after all the other noises have gone silent. “Yeah, Sami, that's what I want.”

Sami hums, smoothing a hand up and down his own chest as one arm settles behind his head. He opens his mouth to respond, but Kevin continues before he can.

“More importantly, I think it's what you need,” Kevin says, tone sounding almost challenging, like, _I dare you to tell me I'm wrong_. Sami can't tell him that, because he's absolutely right, but he can make him work for it a little bit.

“Oh yeah?” Sami says, flippant, like the conversation means nothing to him. “You think you know what I need, Kevin? From thousands of miles away, you think you know?”

“From anywhere,” Kevin says, missing actually interrupting Sami by a fraction of a second. “I always know. Nobody knows you like I do, Sami.”

“You're right about that,” Sami laughs, still just so happy and content in this moment. “So tell me what I need, then. And make it good.”

Kevin scoffs at the last command, like it's insulting for Sami to imply he could ever _not_ make it good, and Sami grins just because he knows Kevin can't see him doing it.

“I bet you're half-hard,” Kevin says, just right off the bat, and isn't it just like him to get to the point that quickly. His voice is already breathier and Sami wonders if he took himself in hand the second he started talking. “Bet you're laying down somewhere and you haven't even touched yourself yet because you like to draw it out, you big fuckin' weirdo.”

Sami laughs again, bright and sharp. Only Kevin could get away with blatantly insulting him in bed and still make him feel like it's the best he's ever had.

“It's not my fault that some of us know what patience is, Kev,” he retorts, hand finally slipping under his waistband, idly palming himself.

“Fuck you,” Kevin says, contrary. “I know how to be patient.”

“Only when I make you,” Sami responds lowly, and the hitch in Kevin's breath at that is audible even though he tries to hide it. “You still haven't told me what it is you think I need,” Sami prompts, pushing the front of his track pants down enough to free himself.

“If I was there it would be me underneath you,” Kevin says, and Sami finally wraps a hand fully around himself at both the mental image and the sense memory as Kevin continues. “You'd come back from the taping all hyped up. Wouldn't even give me time to greet you before you pushed me down somewhere. Probably not even on the bed; you wouldn't wait that long.”

“I didn't make it past the couch before I called you,” Sami admits, and Kevin huffs a knowing laugh on the other end of the line. It's followed by the lightest moan, and Sami's hand tightens on his dick for a fraction of a second at the sound. “What do you think I'd do next, Kevin? Tell me,” Sami commands, and yeah, he could just pick up Kevin's fantasy and roll with it himself, but he's feeling like hearing Kevin's side of it right now, and Kevin doesn't seem to have a problem with it either.

“Y-you'd get your hand on me through my shorts,” Kevin says, and the stumble in the words nearly makes Sami groan out loud. He can picture Kevin getting flustered as he talks, looking just the way Sami loves him best as he tries to hold onto his confidence but slips under Sami's touch anyway. “You'd be all over the place. Touching me, grabbing at me, grinding on me. You'd do that thing where you make it feel like you're completely surrounding me even though you're _smaller_ than me, Sami, how the fuck do you do that-”

Kevin cuts himself off with a deep, shuddering breath, and Sami moves his hand lower to cup his balls, roll them a little in his palm and imagine rutting against Kevin underneath him.

“Keep going,” Sami tells him, voice rough. “Skip ahead. I want you naked already, get to that part.”

“In real life, or?” Kevin asks, and the tone is all innocent curiosity but Sami knows when he's being goaded.

“Both, you fucking brat,” Sami says, maybe more aggressive than he intended but clearly not too aggressive for Kevin's liking, because he swears under his breath and there are more noises of shuffling and movement before he's settled again and breathing hard into the phone. Sami takes the time to kick his own pants and underwear down and off as well, and something about knowing that they're both completely unclothed now, so far away but still aching for each other...it's a lot, for Sami, and he revels in it.

“Would you let me fuck you?” Sami asks, stroking himself properly while he thinks about it. That's a big leap in the fantasy Kevin had been crafting, but he can't really find it in him to care. Especially not when Kevin lets out an “ah, _fuck_ ,” at the question, and the bedsprings on his side of the phone squeak a bit as if he's suddenly sped up on touching himself.

“Yeah, Sami, you know I would,” Kevin answers, and Sami's hips lift up towards his hands almost involuntarily. “I'd beg you for it, you wouldn't even have to ask. Christ, want it so damn bad, why the fuck are you in fucking Florida, I hate this.”

“Lube,” Sami blurts gracelessly, rather than stopping to say anything that will acknowledge the pang in his heart when he thinks about Kevin not being there with him. “Kev, do you have lube with you? Get it, fuck yourself for me, I want you to.”

Kevin swears again, but angrier this time, less sexually frustrated and more generally so. “I didn't fucking pack any, Sami,” he says on a growl, and Sami stares at the ceiling for a moment, almost dumbfounded.

“ _Ya rab_ ,” he mutters, shaking his head. “How do you not pack lube? We always pack lube on the road, it's like a travel bag essential!”

“I'm only here for two days!” Kevin protests, “and it's not like you're here anyway so I didn't exactly have anyone to pack lube for.”

There's a moment of tense quiet wherein Sami can feel that the mood could go either way at this point, depending on how difficult Kevin decides to be. Luckily a sharp inhale and another creak of the bed splits the silence, and Sami's only just started to stroke himself with a purpose again when Kevin mumbles, “I'm gonna cum,” and then repeats again, more clearly, “Sami, Sami, I'm gonna cum soon.”

Sami's definitely going to give Kevin a hard time later for the fact that a little bit of arguing seems to have gotten him to the brink about a hundred times faster than actual dirty talk, but for right now he leaves that aside to encourage Kevin instead, if only for the sake of his own impending climax.

“Do it,” Sami says, and then spits in his palm to ease the friction so he can jerk himself faster, try to get to the edge as close to Kevin's timing as he can. “Do it, Kevin, I want to hear you. _Mon beau, mon chéri_...”

“Oh god, shut up,” Kevin groans, “ _Mais t'es donc ben cave_.”

Sami laughs breathlessly at the insult, shooting back a cheeky “Yeah, I love you too, _hayati_ ” just to hear Kevin groan in that tell-tale way that lets Sami know he's just spilled over his fist. Sami wishes it had been his hand wrapped around Kevin when he came, winding him up to the point where he couldn't take it anymore. He shifts his own grip instead, making do with what he has.

“C'mon, Sami, I wanna hear you too,” Kevin says after a second spent catching his breath. Sami's not really in the mood to deny either of them, so he tips his head back and pictures Kevin laid out and sated, watching him work himself over with dark eyes. After that it's only a few more strokes before he's done for, and he finishes with a long, drawn out moan, striping his own stomach.

“I miss you,” Sami breathes as he comes down from his high, reaching onto the ground to find his discarded underwear and using them to wipe the cum from his stomach, wrinkling his nose a little as he does it. Even for him, for them, that's a little gross, but at least it won't dry on his skin before he can make it to the shower.

“I miss you too,” Kevin says, voice soft, and if Sami could reach through the phone and hold him, he would do it in a heartbeat. “It'll all be worth it when you start bringing home those fat WWE paychecks though,” Kevin continues, tone immediately lighter, and Sami shakes his head with a smile.

“You'll be collecting them too, someday, you know,” he says. There's not a doubt in his mind as he says it that it's true.

“Yeah, yeah, we'll see about that,” Kevin says, and Sami's about to say something else when there's a dull rhythmic thumping in the background of the call, followed by a flurry of motion and Kevin shouting “just a minute!”

Sami sighs, already mentally kicking the ass of whoever is showing up at Kevin's door right now to collect him for food or booze or the gym. He listens as Kevin presumably removes himself from the bed and pulls his clothes back on, sitting up and getting at least his own pants back on in the meantime. After a minute, Kevin's voice returns, quiet and quick.

“Sami, I've gotta go,” Kevin says, and Sami nods even though Kevin can't see him.

“I know, it's alright,” he reassures, prompting a sigh from Kevin.

“I love you,” Kevin says, with a heavy weight to the words like he's trying to make sure they sink as deep into Sami as possible. “And I'm really, really fucking proud of you, you hear me?”

“I hear you,” Sami says, smiling at the phone. “I love you too. I'll see you as soon as I can.”

They exchange quiet goodbyes and Sami lets Kevin cut the line, watching his phone until the call drops off and the lockscreen goes dark. He's still proud of the work he put in that day; still riding high from it and thinking about how great it all went, but the restless buzz under his skin has been sated, for now.

He thinks about the number of days between now and the next time Kevin will come visit him in Florida, and the even longer number of days before both of them will actually be together back home in Quebec. Kevin's words echo in his mind - “It'll all be worth it.”

He thinks that, as always, Kevin is probably right.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Ya rab_ \- basically “Oh God” in Arabic, used as a basic expression of frustration or disbelief.
> 
>  _Mon beau_ \- literally like, “my handsome” which I know doesn't make sense grammatically in English but I swear is acceptable in French.
> 
>  _Mon chéri_ \- “ My darling.”
> 
>  _Mais t'es donc ben cave_ \- Quebecois, “You're so stupid.”
> 
>  _Hayati_ \- Arabic term of endearment, literally means “My life.”
> 
>  
> 
> Find me talking about wrestling at unprofessionalwrestling.tumblr.com or on Twitter @unprofwrestling


End file.
